


Limbs and Outward Flourishes

by dreamlittleyo



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: Humor, Jealousy, M/M, Romance, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-07
Updated: 2011-04-07
Packaged: 2017-10-17 17:15:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/179134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamlittleyo/pseuds/dreamlittleyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After they return from their "honeymoon," Marcus tries not to let on to Stephen that he's jealous.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Limbs and Outward Flourishes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ruuger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruuger/gifts).



If Marcus were a less enlightened man — a little more proud, a little less self-aware — he might have trouble admitting that he's jealous. It's ridiculous, if he thinks about it too hard. He and Stephen have barely been back on Babylon 5 for a week, which makes it far too recently that he lived through long, bored confinement with the man. Antsy and too close in each others' space.

Marcus shouldn't want to get closer.

Not that Stephen suspects; not that he's _likely_ to, either. Marcus knows he's master of the exceedingly annoying when he dons his blustery façade. It might be unfortunate that it's indistinguishable from his usual force of excessive cheer, but the point is that Stephen won't think to look any deeper. He won't see Marcus worrying it like a toothache, the presumptuous kernel of jealousy that hits him every time he thinks about the doctor and his… _shenanigans_ with a woman they know only as "Number One."

Marcus has no place dwelling in such arenas; one unrequited fantasy is enough, thank you. And it's some small consolation that Stephen won't figure him out.

He should know to give his friend more credit.

— ( ) — ( ) — ( ) — ( ) —

It's morning in the Zocalo, and meeting for breakfast is perhaps a _little_ domestic, but it's the only time the doctor's schedule permits. And it's not that Marcus is needy for the man's attention. It's just that, apparently a week is too long without the constant contact he's come to find himself accustomed to.

"Marcus, _what_?" Stephen asks him. Marcus is pretty sure he wasn't staring, or hadn't been for _too_ long, but there's no point in not owning up to it now.

"Sorry," he says and goes back to his breakfast.

"I have something on my face?" asks Franklin, a hint of accusation in his voice as he reaches for his napkin. "I have something on my face and _you_ just plan on letting me wander the station that way."

"Stephen, there's nothing on your face." Marcus is trying not to laugh now. "I swear on my honor as a Ranger."

"Isn't that a little overkill?" asks Franklin, but he sets the napkin aside.

"Is it?" says Marcus. "I can never really tell. Too dramatic?"

A beat of silence passes, and it's enough to convince Marcus he's off the hook. All he needs is for the moment to pass. Something else to talk about, just as soon as he figures out what, and he's usually so much better at this game —

"Seriously," says Franklin, and Marcus knows he's sunk. "What's wrong? You zoned _completely_ out just now."

"I was just thinking," says Marcus, and suddenly knows just what to say. "This is the first time we've really gotten to sit and _talk_ since the divorce."

Stephen throws a biscuit at him, and Marcus knows his diversion was successful.

— ( ) — ( ) — ( ) — ( ) —

Stephen doesn't talk about Number One often, but when he does Marcus finds it difficult to disguise his distaste for the subject. The doctor isn't one to over share his romantic exploits. In fact, such discussions for the most part stay confined to hushed tones and the topic of the Mars Resistance.

Marcus still doesn't like it. He thinks he's pretty discreet about it, all things considered, until he catches a considering glint in Stephen's eyes on one such occasion.

"I thought you _liked_ Number One," says Stephen.

"I do," Marcus is quick to assure. "I hold her in the highest estimation."

"Then why do you look like you're sucking on a lemon right now?"

"That hardly seems a fair comparison," says Marcus. Deflect and distract. "I happen to _like_ lemons. Not that one can find them on the station, but— "

"Marcus." The look in Stephen's eyes cuts him off more than the sound of his name, which was quiet enough that Marcus might have just steamrolled past it. There's revelation in Stephen's eyes as he says, "You're _jealous_."

"I am no such thing."

"You _are_ ," says Franklin, and it figures he picks now to read into Marcus's poorly timed delay. "Marcus, if you were interested in her why didn't you say something?"

" _Her_?" Marcus exclaims, and when he snaps his mouth shut it's too late to reclaim that one damning syllable.

Stephen catches it. Of course he does. He catches on, and his eyes go wide. They lock onto Marcus like the rest of the empty corridor has gone blurry and pointless.

"Oh," he says; quieter than the response Marcus expects. And decidedly more brief.

"That's all you have to say?" Marcus demands, suddenly indignant. "Just 'oh'? Couldn't you think of something with a little more pizzazz? I think a moment like this warrants more than — "

" _Marcus_ ," Stephen interrupts him again. "Stop talking."

"Why?" Marcus asks.

"Because it's too hard to kiss you while you're pontificating." It's not an offer, and it's not a threat — it's not really much of _anything_ worth articulating, because by the time Marcus has caught up, Stephen is already in his space.

He can't tell if the corridor is still empty. Can't tell and _doesn't care_ because yes, Stephen is _kissing_ him. It's sudden and perfect, a moment like poetry or maybe something a little less pedantic.

And all Marcus can think is, ' _Oh_.'

— ( ) — ( ) — fin — ( ) — ( ) —

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Limbs and Outward Flourishes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8882311) by [Shmaylor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shmaylor/pseuds/Shmaylor)




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